I cannot pronounce, let alone spell his name. Easier to say Greek Freak than the actual name, all those vowels.
I read the linked article. It was emotional because it is rare. How often, blatantly often, do athletes take their honor and become self-indulgent. Not only athletes, but I’ll settle there.
What the MVP award for the National Basketball Association means is unfathamobile, at least to this incredible athlete and his team and his city.
The counter-point and it’s not surprising. How Houston whines with such a false accolade, prompted THEIR athlete James Harden, came in number two. Disheartening.
Not my point, though. How many? How many? [Worth asking twice.] Do not regard family? Or worse, do not benefit from families who support them?
My own space can never be seen without Hank and Es Miller. You readers know that. I don’t know if I ever shared my senior high school year. I had a horrific start as a hitter. Blank. Then my father gave me a lesson in my swing, standing on Miller Field, which was our driveway, how my swing elevated and shouldn’t do that. I took his lesson to heart and to my “new swing,” and ended up hitting better than ever. It was “my father’s fault.”
Then my mother…so many ways. Perhaps the most vivid was her refusing retirement, instead walking a mile to a nursing home, asking the manager for “someone here who has no visitors.” She got two names and was “was with them,” until Ed Miller was hit by a car on Valentine’s Day. Well, even that didn’t slow her down. She insisted on breathing until Brian her grandson, brought newborn Zeli, to her. Mom held Zeli, smiled and said, “God is good.” Her last words.
So, on this end of June…when parenting is perhaps more important than anything today, read the link. How the Greek Freak affirms his family…beautiful!
How about you?